


Petulant

by drbubblegum



Category: Karneval
Genre: Established Relationship, Kuronomei, M/M, smoochin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-26
Updated: 2014-11-26
Packaged: 2018-02-27 20:43:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2706092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drbubblegum/pseuds/drbubblegum
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gareki has to wait out in the hall while Hirato and the Kuronomei headmaster talk. One of those "decide-someone's-future-without-involving-them" talks that Gareki just fucking hates.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Petulant

"Somehow, I’m not surprised, Gareki."

Gareki rolled his eyes and clicked his tongue loudly, just so Hirato would know  _exactly_  what he thought of that. But that shitty, four-eyed captain just laughed softly before entering the headmaster’s office and leaving Gareki to stew in the hallway.

This whole ordeal was overkill. It’s not like he’d been in a  _real_  fight, this was just some dipshit sporting a black eye. Really, the kid could have ducked. And really, there was no reason to go crying to the campus medical staff over a  _bruise_. To think that idiot thought he could be a Circus combatant.

The thing that chafed the most, though, was the fact that Hirato had even been called. The headmaster kept going on and on about a  _parent-teacher conference_  and how it was protocol for incidents like this. It had been all Gareki could do to not flat up tell the guy that was a load of horse shit, the only thing that needed doing was giving the kid a swift kick in the ass, and that had been taken care of, thanks very much. He’d learned over the past months that words like that didn’t really fly in an academic setting. In any setting where there were Adults and Children (invariably, Gareki was always deemed a Child).

Gareki clicked his tongue again.

Whatever. He didn’t regret his bruised knuckles, and Gareki figured he only would if this one tiny infraction ended up with him expelled. He hated having to rely on Hirato’s clout and silver tongue, but in this case, it was his only choice.

"Ah—" Gareki didn’t even have time to dive out of the way before he was caught up in a bone-crushing hug. "Gareki-kun!"

Gareki grunted. He couldn’t breathe, and he was pretty sure Yogi might have just cracked one of his ribs.

Yogi squeezed him tighter for a second, dug his nose into Gareki’s neck, taking a deep breath. If Gareki wasn’t seeing spots from lack of oxygen, he’d understand.

"It’s been so long," he whispered. 

Gareki made a choked noise, hitting Yogi’s shoulder with his palm, and finally, Yogi relaxed a little and Gareki could breathe again.

"Jeez," Gareki coughed out. 

Yogi pulled his head back and gave him a sheepish smile. “Sorry, Gareki-kun, I got a little carried away!”

Somehow Gareki couldn’t really find it in himself to be angry. He did, however, manage to grumble out a  _no kidding_. Which Yogi just took as permission to hug him again. Gareki gave an exaggerated sigh, but let himself lean against Yogi, arms carefully looping around Yogi’s shoulders (because where else could they go).

"I missed you," Yogi murmured, breath flaring across Gareki’s ear. "I missed you  _so much_ , Gareki-kun.”

"Yeah," Gareki replied. It was nice, the weight of Yogi’s chest against his, the warmth of the palms on his back, the smell of soap and candy and roses. It was really nice. Gareki tried not to be too obvious as he nudged his nose a little closer to Yogi’s head. The boat had already sailed on that, though, what with how his fingers had already tangled themselves in Yogi’s hair. He didn’t even  _remember_  doing that.

Maybe, maybe if they weren’t standing in the hallway, right next to the headmaster’s office, maybe he’d kiss him. It  _had_  been a long time, if six months counted as a long time to go without seeing his boyfriend.

A sniffle, then two, and even a tremble. Gareki clicked his tongue. What a crybaby,  _honestly_.

Yogi pulled his head back again to give him a watery glare. Probably would have been more effective if it were anyone but Yogi. Gareki wondered if maybe he’d said something out loud—

"Of cour—I  _missed_  you, Gareki-kun, of course I’m— _anyone_  would cry.”

Definitely then. Whoops.

Yogi pouted at him, sniffing indignantly.

And that was about when Gareki thought  _fuck it, I’m already in trouble_.

He leaned up to press a kiss to the corner of Yogi’s mouth, and again to the petulant lip stuck out at him. And by then—after a half-mumble of Gareki’s name—Yogi had gotten the idea.

Kissing, Gareki decided, was definitely nicer than just a hug. With the way Yogi sighed into him, sweetly, softly, and absolutely everything Gareki missed (even if he rarely admitted it). He liked the taste of his name murmured against his lips. He liked the way Yogi’s arms had tightened around him again. He liked how his blood pounded in his ears, his fingertips, all the way to his toes, coiling in his gut.

Gareki couldn’t help but smile as he tilted his head the other way. Almost nothing could top this feeling. And it sure as hell was a better way to spend the time waiting than by counting ceiling tiles.

He stepped closer, pushed onto his toes just a little, turning all that sentimental yearning into something harder. They needed this. It had been so long, they’re both  _desperate_  for this. Gareki slipped his tongue into Yogi’s mouth, and if he weren’t clutching at his jaw for dear life, if Yogi’s hands hadn’t been tangled in the fabric of his blazer, he’d be flat on his ass from how fast his knees buckled.

 _Click._  Silence.  _What the hell?_  Then a series of louder clicks. Another pause. A few quiet footsteps. The clicking started again.

Gareki’s eyes flicked open, reluctant to move away but still pretty curious as to what that shutter sound was—

_Sesiri._

Sure enough, just down the hall, right at the corner toward the front of the administrative building, a camera lens flashed menacingly at him.  _Goddammit_ _._

Gareki pulled himself away and flipped her his middle finger. Yogi blinked a little blearily at him.

"Fuck off, Sesiri!"

A startled squeak, and she was gone. For now at least.

Yogi pressed his forehead to his. “Gareki-kun?” Gareki didn’t say anything, still glaring over his shoulder, waiting for a telltale camera flash. Yogi let out a quiet breath before pressing a fleeting kiss to the spot of color burning high on Gareki’s cheek. He stepped away. “You shouldn’t talk like that in a school, Gareki-kun.”

It was cold without Yogi there. Cold air, cold wall, a cold ball of frustration he had to swallow down as he clicked his tongue.

"Probably shouldn’t have been kissing here, either." Yogi let out a small laugh as he fit himself against the wall, shoulder pressed to Gareki’s. "We both got a little carried away, huh?"

Gareki finally pulled his eyes away from the far corner to glance at Yogi. He was smiling, rubbing at tearstains off his face with the cuff of his jacket. It was the first time Gareki noticed Yogi was wearing the official Circus duds, just without the top hat. All that dark fabric just made the rest of him shine that much brighter. The thought sent a rush of blood to his face—what an embarrassing thing to think. He turned back to watch the corner.

"What’s with the get-up?"

"It’s official business, coming to Kuronomei." 

"It’s just  _school_.”

"No," Gareki could hear Yogi smiling wide, he could hear him just  _shine_. Yogi hooked hooked their little fingers together.

Gareki felt himself smiling, too.

"It’s  _you_ , Gareki-kun.”

Gareki squeezed their intertwined fingers. “Idiot.”

They stood there a little while, Yogi humming quietly to himself and Gareki giving himself a moment to bask in the feeling. It’s probably the closest he’s been to happy in a long time. Well, no he was pretty damn pleased when he’d aced that advance anatomy exam last week, but that was a different sort of happy. This was—the weight and warmth of Yogi beside him, how he felt a little lighter—this was different. Nicer, which was strange as he didn’t think himself anything close to a nice or good person. Gareki decided he liked it though.

Yogi fell silent. Gareki looked at him from the corner of his eyes. He’d started chewing on the corner of his lip and frowning at the heather grey linoleum tiles on the floor.

"Yogi."

He blinked. “Mm, what is it, Gareki-kun.”

"You’re quiet."

"Oh, I guess I am," Yogi smiled, but not quite as brightly as he should have. Gareki nudged his shoulder. "I was just…thinking."

If the situation had been reversed, if Gareki had told Yogi he was the one thinking, Gareki knew there was some kids movie Yogi would parrot back at him before Gareki’s mouth had even closed on the last syllable. And for a millisecond or so, it was on the tip of Gareki’s tongue—

Until his brain kicked in to remind him just how fucking  _lame_  that would be.

"It’s just—you’ve been here a while—"

"About a year, give or take."

"—and I was just…wondering, I guess. When you’d come home, I mean."

Gareki smiled a little. “My course ends in six months.”

"That’s so  _long_.”

"Not any longer than the last time."

"I’ve missed so much, I don’t know if I could make it that long…"

Gareki tutted. “Don’t be melodramatic.”

"So mean, Gareki-kun. You probably didn’t miss me at  _all_.”

Yogi was pouting again, only this time it wasn’t as cute. This time it kind of made Gareki want to jab him in the kidneys a little.  _Of course_  he’d missed Yogi. He missed him so much, he couldn’t sleep sometimes. Hell, Gareki could barely reply to Yogi’s text messages without wanting to figure out a way to climb through his damn phone to see him again.

Gareki frowned at Yogi and turned away. Yogi had started mumbling a list of reasons why six months was too long for him to survive. Gareki clicked his tongue loudly. 

“ _Jesus_ —If it bothers you so damn much, just stay here a while!” Yogi’s litany stumbled at the outburst as he blinked at Gareki. Gareki pointedly ignored the flush he felt crawling up his neck and ears. “It’ll make it easier on  _both_  of us.”

Yogi’s face softened, and he smiled widely, brightly, and so happy Gareki was sure it was illegal. But his voice was quiet. “ _Gareki-kun._ ”

He wasted no time to swoop down and kiss the top of his head at least ten times too many. Gareki scowled. He felt his whole face burning in embarrassment as he half-heartedly tried to lean himself out of Yogi’s range without actually moving.

Which was of course when the door opened, nearly giving Gareki a concussion.

There was a second where Hirato just sort of stared at them blankly. He and Yogi probably made quite a sight, what with how Yogi’s mouth was puckered up, making obnoxious kissy noises, and how Gareki had practically bent in half trying to avoid him. Then that smug bastard gave them both That smile, the one where Hirato’s in on this private joke that’s just  _so fucking_   _funny_. 

Yogi choked out a strangled noise. Gareki tried his damnedest to huff and act unaffected despite how red his face was.

"If you two aren’t too busy, let’s find somewhere to discuss what the headmaster and I agreed upon." Hirato pushed up his glasses and turned toward the corner, not bothering to check if they’d followed him.

Yogi looked at Gareki — a little embarrassed, a little apologetic and all sorts of worried — then he trotted after his boss. Gareki, however, waited a minute, still slouched against the wall (he would leave when he wanted to, thanks), but then he too walked after them.

And when he caught up to Yogi, Gareki slipped his hand into his.

**Author's Note:**

> On [Tumblr](http://drbubblegum.tumblr.com/post/103651384024).


End file.
